What Meets The Eye
by the lola
Summary: There's a story to tell from every image - even the perfect image of Astoria Greengrass on a walk in the rain. "Fractured memories of long days spent in old book shops swirl around her sore mind. Hours of whispering, debates, and hunts for those rare books haunt her, giving her a reason to smile but a reason to cry too."


**Word Count:** 858

**Challenge/Competition: **Masterchef Challenge/Competition

**Prompts:** Astoria Greengrass, rain

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** I don't claim to own Harry Potter, it's all JKR's.

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The woman's incredibly slender frame almost glides down the path, red cotton sundress sticking to her gaunt figure as the vicious rain beats down on her. In one arm she tightly clutches a leather bound and ancient looking book to her body, the other arm hangs limp beside her. As the puddles lap at her platform stilettos, she sways her hips from side to side and presses her perfectly painted lips together. The droplets of rain trickle over her agonizingly beautiful features, causing her dark tresses to cling to her face and neck. Somehow, she manages to look dignified. She looks dignified and free and she looks perfect.

But then again, nothing is as simple as what meets the eye.

This woman does not know where she is – she doesn't know where she is or where she's headed and she doesn't care, she'd rather be here than where she's expected to be. The rain is comforting right now but the old her would never have even contemplated it – rain is for children and silly romantics, rain makes you catch a cold and rain ruins your good clothes.

The red sundress isn't one of her favourite items of clothing… in fact, she hates it. She hates it, but it carries his scent because it's the last thing she wore with him and it's the last thing he brought for her. One of the last pieces of him is this dress and she needs it – she hasn't taken it off since that day, and she isn't planning on taking it off.

Food isn't of importance anymore, who needs food? Who wants food? Honestly, it's the last thing that crosses her mind. Maybe when she spots that café in Soho where they used to go together, with their books and their art and their intelligent conversation… maybe food will mean something to her then, maybe she'll remember. Maybe everything won't be lost in the empty abyss of her mind.

Fractured memories of long days spent in old book shops swirl around her sore mind. Hours of whispering, debates, and hunts for those rare books haunt her, giving her a reason to smile but a reason to cry too. The time when they found that book they both desperately wanted – the first edition copy, leather bound and all, perfect condition considering its age… when they flipped a coin and he won, but then gave it to her as a present the next day.

Everything that reminds her of him brings a tear to her eye – this whole situation just swamps her in desolation but it's okay because it's raining and no one has to see her tears now. She's just a wet woman enjoying the liberation that comes with a walk in the rain, right?

A small room catches her eye as she walks past the large glass doors. She recognizes the place, but can't fit the pieces together until she looks in. As the pictures in the gallery come into her vision, she remembers and it's a really good thing it's raining and no one can see her tears because if someone saw her cry like this they would be _worried _– she's the heartless one… but not to him. He's the only one that knows her and gets her and sees that she isn't heartless, not really.

They had promised to go to that gallery, just like they had been to so many others. She would have worn one of his flannel shirts and he would have hummed her favourite paolo nutini song into her ear even though he hated those muggle artists, they would have discussed the meanings of the pictures or the paintings and somehow, the conversation would lead to something bigger – marriage, children, the future in general. Always after their gallery visits, they would end up seeing some sort of live music and pretending they weren't themselves.

That was the problem though – they were running from who they were always supposed to be and it was always going to catch up with them, wasn't it? They weren't muggles, they were a Malfoy and a Greengrass – it was never destined for greatness, it was destined for an end.

But she never thought this would be the end it was destined for.

He isn't just tucked away in his studio, writing and out of love with her… he is gone. He's gone forever and there's nothing she can do. He's gone when there are so many things they haven't done, so many memories they still have to make, so much life for them to live. Her heart will never heal; it will forever be left in fractures that only he can put back together. She loves him. She loves him with her whole entire heart and when she thought she was too cold for love he opened her eyes to it. He made her a better person, he brought out the best in her, and he's gone. He's gone and he's never coming back.

And suddenly, the perfect woman in the red sundress with the old leather-bound book is not perfect at all – she's broken, she's lost, and she's human.

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A/N- Hey guys! I hope you all like this - I actually really love this story and the version of Draco and Astoria I've built in it, so I hope you like it too! Please please review, but don't favourite without reviewing! Thanks lovelies.


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